Liars With Connections
by happykid
Summary: csinyHouse crossover.House, be nice. Detective Taylor and his team are here to put one of your patients on surveillance. She’s an eye witness to a crime…so he’s going to be here for a long time until your patient wakes up from her…coma.”HuddySMACked chap2
1. When the Estranged Meet the Strange

Liars With Intentions 

Chapter I

"He really just wanted to be my friend…so I…jumped him," Latest patient Amber Lincoln concluded, caressing the swollen lymph nodes on her right arm. She drew a loud sigh.

"Ooh. Someone should take the hint," Chase murmured as he slipped the needle into Amber's skin and injected her with a new drug they had just received. Foreman rolled his eyes, and Amber giggled.

"Stop it," Cameron snapped.

"Well, I was just saying…"

"We were just saying that all you need to do is treatment and you'll be fine," Foreman answered, with a signature glare to Cameron and Chase, who kept their eyes off each other after the quip.

"WRONG! Foreman, you need to go back to _pre_school. And what's wrong with our little lovebirds? Trouble in paradise?" a familiar tone bellowed from the other side of the room. Cameron and Chase whirled around immediately and Foreman reiterated with a sigh.

"House, how did you get here?" he asked, his hands massaging his temples slowly.

"By osmosis. Now-" but his voice was caught as Chase continue with a, "Weren't you supposed to be attending another patient?"

"She died a few minutes ago. Now, Ms…Amber Lincoln, you have this little illness called AIDS. It's nothing serious, really," House continued, ignoring the jaws of the Ducklings, which had dislocated and were now on the ground. House was about to carry on with his findings when there was a tap on the glass door - an old lady in a wheelchair was waving pleasantly to him as she was pushed by a younger man (presumably her son), with a huge toothless grin plastered on her face. He nodded and whirled around. The jaws were still on the ground, Foreman's returning to his face first.

"What, no applause? She's _alive!_ It's a _miracle!" _He hopped around, disregarding the fact that his leg hurt like _hell. _

"AIDS? I thought it was just the infiltration of her metastases from her first stage cancer? That would bring about the swells, wouldn't it?" Chase spoke up. Foreman and Cameron looked on with their flummoxed faces.

"Seriously, ducklings – _pre_school. Test for HIV antibodies. Biopsy – ever heard of it?"

Eyebrows rose. Amber seemed to be playing with her IV drip.

House groaned. "Since I'm so cool, I'll get Cuddy's information for you. She's in a good mood. I heard Wilson gave her a cookie." Grasping his cane tightly, he limped out of the ward, a satisfied grin on his face.

"He _is _cool," Amber uttered.

"Oh you haven't seen him on his _good _days," Cameron winked.

* * *

As he made his way through the hallways of the hospital, which was literally at peak hour: filled with hustle and bustle of nurses, doctors, attendants rushing around, pages beeping on and off, stretches being wheeled here and there, House couldn't help wonder where Wilson was, when a cute nurse was caught in his line of vision, chatting with someone in a white robe.

"WILSON! DID YOU WATCH THE OPRAH RERUN LAST NIGHT? IT WAS THE EPISODE WHERE YOU COULDN'T STOP CRYING!" he screamed, not bothering to glance at the respective glances of Wilson and the nurse: astonished, and truly, _truly _apologetic. Hobbling to Cuddy's office, he realised it was full of people, mainly…policemen.

"Cuddy must be juggling again," he muttered to himself and smirked.

* * *

"Cuddles, baby, it's time for our daily appointment – oh! I'm sorry, did I interrupt anything?" House sneered after one of his famous pouts. Cuddy heaved an enormous sigh, as the policemen looked on, some with playful smirks decorated on their visages. A man dressed in a crisp suit with a slight frown on his face introduced himself as Detective Mac Taylor from the New York Police Department.

"Dr. Gregory House, Lisa Cuddy's sex slave. Jealous yet?" House shuts the glass door behind him, but before Detective Taylor got a chance to retaliate, Lisa Cuddy beat him to it first.

"House, be nice. _Detective_ Taylor and his team are here to put one of your patients on surveillance. She's an eye witness to a crime…so he's going to be here for a _long _time until your patient wakes up from her…_coma_."

"I'm just surprised you don't call him _Mac,_" House eyed Detective Taylor surreptitiously. As Cuddy opened her mouth, an unfamiliar voice piped up.

"Gregory House. I've heard enough about you to last me a lifetime," Stella Bonasera grinned and sauntered into a room, a grin on her face. As she introduced herself, Cuddy looked up, her eyes widening as she awaited the sarcasm to ooze out of House's mouth. To her dismay, all he did was stared back and forth from Stella to Cuddy.

"Same mother – different father? Cuddy, I didn't know you were Greek…or Italian…" House winced at the thought.

"I-uh…"

"Stella, I was waiting for you," Mac answered and a tiny smile appeared on his face. The other policemen were like mannequins, ignoring this exchange. Stella didn't answer – all she did was beamed, and leaned against Cuddy's desk. Cuddy stood up and offered to show Stella and the other policemen the ward which they were looking for. They agreed eagerly and left the room, Cuddy warning House once more to "Be _nice". _

He simply answered nobly, an illustrious, "Yes, mistress" and turned to Mac, who was about to follow them.

"Cuddy's pretty cute, isn't she?" House asked Mac, cocking his eyebrow.

"Um…" Mac's voice trailed off, but House picked up from where he left off.

"But you didn't know she used to be a dude. Tough," House clicked his tongue and walked out of the office, leaving Mac, confused and contemplating.

"WILSON! I NEED YOU _NOW!" _Mac heard House's voice echo through the open doorway, and figured he's going to be hearing that voice for the rest of his natural, reserved life.

* * *

"CHASE! Stop it!" Cameron giggled from behind the witness' ward curtain. Aiden rolled her eyes as she waited, placing her kit on the plastic chair. Danny didn't look too pleased either. They had been waiting in the room for over half and hour and Chase and Cameron had unwittingly been behind that curtain, checking the witness' temperature all that while. 

"Okay, okay, let's get back to work," Chase's Australian accent pervaded the air. Danny sometimes wondered what the coma patient would do if she miraculously woke up during her…temperature-taking exercise.

"You know, I actually thought his accent was cute," Aiden breathed, and Danny raised his eyebrows.

"How about mine?" his thin lips pursed together and broke into a smile.

"We got the same one, stupid," she grinned and shoved Danny into a corner. He realised the movement behind the curtain had stopped and the curtain had drew open. Aiden coughed.

"Well?"

"Right. Body temperature's uh…normal…98.6 ºF," Chase said and Danny nodded simultaneously. He caught Cameron's eye and winked. Her eyes narrowed and she shook her head. Her cheeks flushed.

Chase cleared his throat.

"We'll…be right back," he said, beckoning Cameron to follow him outside.

* * *

"I want it," Cameron enunciated firmly.

"Wow, Cameron and a backbone – dream come true," House limped across the conference room, eyeing Foreman and Chase respectively.

"Foreman, you take it," he spoke as he pointed his cane at Foreman. A bit taken aback, Foreman raised his hands.

"I'm booked," he answered.

"Wombat. Do your thing," House assigned him accordingly.

"I _can't. _That girl tried to _kiss _me once. I just…can't," Chase admitted, his face blushing. It was perfectly etched in his memory – it was a cold night and Chase had surprisingly been forgetful and left his coat in the break room. As he rushed back to retrieve it, leaving a slightly annoyed Cameron in the car, he had ran into an ambivalent girl walking around. She had tried to make conversation with him, and being the guy that he was, he complied. He had discussed with her the illness that had plagued him and unknowingly gotten closer to her with every word. As she closed in for the kill, he dropped the red mug on the table and was snapped out of the little trance.

"Ooh, maybe we can jump in on your little reverie and tape it. Would sell. You're on the case," House said much to Chase's chagrin. His eyes shifted uncomfortably to Cameron's, but she wasn't bothered by it one bit. Anger flashed in her eyes as she tried to compose herself at her loss…again.

As House dragged himself out of their conference room, Cameron walked up to him.

"I _want _the next case," What Cameron thought was a plea, came out as an order.

"I want Cuddy for the night but we can't always get what we want, now can we?" House pouted and attempted to walk off, leaving an unmistakable cloud of grey hanging over Cameron.

* * *

"Witness seems alright…" Flack concluded as he closed his notebook. "Danny and Aiden have headed back to the lab, and I'm going now. If you guys need anything, call me up," he grinned at them as he puts on his sunglasses. The sun was going to set anytime soon.

"Alright. Thanks Don," Stella smiled and Flack left through the double doors. She turned to Mac.

"Good day?" she asked.

"Good day," he replied, answering her smile.

"Dinner?"

"Sure."

However, as they were about to step outside of Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital after what seemed like a long day, a familiar silhouette ran and flung herself onto Mac – leaving Stella slightly taken aback.

"Oh Mac Taylor, I missed you," she spoke up, a tinge of British accent in her voice.

"Peyton…what are you doing here?" Mac asked, his smile wide. Stella could only afford a grin and a nod of her head.

-


	2. When the strange got stranger

Chapter II

**"_Oh Mac Taylor, I missed you," she spoke up, a tinge of British accent in her voice._**

**"_Peyton…what are you doing here?" Mac asked_****_ his smile wide. Stella could only afford a grin and a nod of her head. _**

"A cousin of mine has been admitted into this hospital and she called to say she was lonely so I came over." Peyton finished beaming at Mac.

"You came here just because she said she was lonely?" Mac, however glad he was to see her, raised an eyebrow skeptically.

"Yes." It came out quick. Peyton seemed uncomfortable. She paused for a while before continuing. "So, are you going to help me get settled in?" she lifted up her bags and flashed him a smile.

It was at this moment that Mac suddenly remembered Stella standing there all this time listening to him and Peyton, waiting for him because _he_asked her out for dinner. Mac looked to Stella uncertainly but she just shook her head and waved a hand. "It's ok. You two lovebirds go get settled in." Although she wanted to be happy for them she couldn't help but hope that her voice didn't come out strained.

Mac sent her an apologetic smile and said, "Tomorrow, I promise."

Stella smiled, "Ok. But if it's another hotdog stand you're taking me to, you can keep your promises."

"How will I ever live that down?"

Mac gave Stella a smile and she returned it. For a moment, it seemed as though nothing else existed to them. There was no Peyton, no hospital, no America, no nothing, just them. And as quick as it came, it was over. Mac turned to Peyton, took her bag and with one last nod to Stella, left with Peyton following him.

Stella watched them go and only when the end of Peyton's coat left her sight that she looked down at her feet and sighed. "So is this the part of the soap where you find out he's been married all along and he leaves you for her?" Stella felt her ear hurt as a sarcastic buzz hit it.

"Care to elaborate on that _Doctor House_?" Stella looked sharply at House, who was all ready to head home before anyone else, as usual.

House considered her for a moment. "Are you really happy and alright that she's ruined yours and Mac's dinner plans?"

"Peyton's his girlfriend! Of course I understand he would choose her over his friend!" Stella defended sharply.

"Aha! I didn't ask if you understood him picking someone like her over you. I asked if you were really, sincerely happy for him." House smirked in triumph.

Stella stared at him, "For a moment you strongly resembled a smirking jackass...but you probably always looks like that."

"Touché" House pretended to wince at her sharp tone. Boy, she was a sharp one.

"So," House broke the silence that had taken over, "wanna go get a drink and pour out your sorrows to a handsome attentive compassionate listener?" House looked at her.

Stella took a moment to compose herself and digest what he had just asked her. "You're asking me out for a drink and spend more time with me when I obviously don't seem to be getting along well with you?"

House shrugged. "Everyone lies. I know that deep down, you really like me and really want to have that drink."

Stella considered it for a moment before smiling her first smile since Mac left. "What the heck. Anyway if I say I enjoyed your company, just remember that everyone lies."

House snorted at that and directed Stella to the car park. Little did they know that Mac was just around the corner collecting a file he left behind. He had heard every word and even with all the willpower he had in him was unable to stop the jealousy that was clawing and twisting itself inside him. He was glad that no one was around with he let out a barely audible growl that had been suppressed for quite a while. He should be happy for Stella, he knew that. She was finally moving on after Frankie. Yet somehow, it seemed impossible for him to find their conversation pleasant to his ears. After wrestling with these unwanted green monsters, he put it down to him having a bad start with Dr House. After all, he did sincerely want Stella to not get hurt again. Especially by a bastard like House!

* * *

Sunlight was trying its best to peek in to their hotel room when morning came. Mac turned over on his bed, twisting the sheets with him as he turned to look at Peyton in the other bed. Alright, so even though they were finally officially seeing each other it didn't mean that they were ready to take a big step into a real relationship. Though Peyton did seem a bit disappointed when she saw two beds in the new room Mac got for them last night. 

Mac took a deep breath and got out of bed to get himself ready for the day and worst of all, to face Stella and House. After he'd finish he's daily routine for getting ready, he went back into the room to find Peyton still in bed. _Better tell her I'm going. _Mac reached over to tap her on the shoulder when he noticed that she was covered in a thin layer of sweat. _Strange. The rooms seem cool enough. _"Peyton. Peyton!" Mac started to shake Peyton by the shoulders with he noticed that she was starting to tremble.

Suddenly, Peyton's eyes snapped open, her eyes wide already.

"Mac?" she looked at Mac's eyes. "Mac…I think I'm going crazy! I DON'T WANT TO GO CRAZY, MAC! I'M NOT TURNING CRAZY! I'M NOT!"

Peyton was screaming now, clutching her head in her hands and rocking back and forth on the bed. Mac could only just stand there stunned at her sudden outburst. Why would she think she's going crazy? Unless someone told her she was but Peyton's smart enough to just brush it off. Soon, Peyton's breathing started to become shallower by the second; soon she was hyperventilating, gasping for sweet oxygen.

"Peyton? Peyton hold on, I'm calling for an ambulance!" Mac was more than convinced this wasn't just some phase of life women go through. Mac whipped out his cell, fumbling to open it, his sweating palms not making it any better.

Someone was banging against the door now, "MAC! PEYTON! IS EVERYTHING OK?" It was Flack. Concern flooded his voice. Finally, the damn phone opened. "Get me an ambulance now - it's an emergency! We're at the Premier Hotel Princeton. Room 076." Mac practically shouted into his cell. "MAC! OPEN UP!" Flack's voice came again. "MAC!" that was Stella's voice. Mac didn't know what to do. Everything was just so chaotic. Peyton was rocking on the bed, head in her hands still, sweat making her shine under what ever sunlight got past the curtains. "MAC! I'M GONNA BRAK THE DAMN DOOR DOWN SO IF -" Flack was cut off as Mac flung open the door.

"Oh my God Mac, what's going on?! We heard Peyton screaming. And you weren't answering," Stella nearly threw herself at Mac when he opened the door. The damn man. Why didn't he answer them?!

"There's something wrong with Peyton." Mac answered, trying very hard to calm down.

The relief that was on their faces was immediately exchanged with horror and concern. "Let me check on her." Hawkes was the first to get his act together and ran past everyone and into the room.

"Mac, are you ok?" Aiden reached out to touch Mac's arm.

"I'm fine." Mac pulled away subtly, not wanting to show that he was vulnerable.

"Ya sure Mac? 'Cause-" Danny was cut off by the arriving paramedics who rushed to the scene.

"Where's the victim?"

"In there."

The paramedics rushed in…

* * *

_What a morning!_ Stella thought to herself as she slumped into a chair in the Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital's cafeteria less graceful than a former dancer should but she didn't care. She brought a steaming mug of coffee to her lips. _What a morning…_

Meanwhile at Cuddy's office….

"WE SPECIFICALLY TOLD YOU TO NOT RUN ANY TESTS OR GIVE HER ANY NEW MEDICINE WITHOUT OUR CONSENT!" Mac was shouting at House. Normally, he might have been able to keep his cool but after a morning like today's being told this was really it.

"WELL MAYBE IF WE COULD CONTACT YOU THEN WE WOULD HAVE!" House was raising his voice as well. "Where were you anyway? You don't look like the type who turns off the alarm clock and turns back to sleep. Someone keep you awake last night?"

Mac could have punched House square in the face at the moment. To heck with everything else. He just wanted to hit him hard. And he probably would have if Cuddy hadn't stepped in, physically.

"House." She warned. Even though she knew it wasn't House's fault that he didn't ask for consent, he couldn't and Mac was really stressed after what happened this morning. But the last comment was really unnecessary and Mac wanting to get physically wasn't ethically as well.

"It's not my fault that I didn't kill your eye-witness. Why are you defending him anyway? For once, even I think I haven't done anything wrong - UNLESS YOU COUNT SAVING HER LIFE WRONG!" House practically spat out the last part at Mac.

"House…" Cuddy began. Mac was glaring at House from behind Cuddy.

"But you know, come to think of it, you came to work early today as well. Could it be you had a business _affair_ to attended to?" House's eyes were flashing. He was beyond reason now.

"What? House-" Cuddy began.

"Forget it. Gang up on the cripple! Defend _your_Mac!" and with that House stormed out the office, taking care to slam the door hard, trying to knock it off its hinges, leaving a stunned Cuddy and a fuming Mac in his trail of furry.

-


	3. When the Complications Begin

Liars With Connections

Chapter III

"Thanks again," Wilson smiled to another pretty stranger and made his way to Cuddy's office, thinking about the past week. He has officially concluded that it has been a crazy week, what with House's mood swings returning, Chase and Cameron fighting every single minute and Foreman begging him to get himself transferred somewhere else _and _the New York Police Department running around, fingerprinting this, examining that – thrice, last week, he found his lunch dripping with Luminol at the cafeteria. It seemed to him that Cuddy was the only one that could help him make sense out of everything.

He opened the door and stuck his head in.

"Not now, _House," _Cuddy acknowledged without shifting her gaze from a piece of paper she was reading.

"Hey – can I _talk _to you for a minute?" He shrugged it off.

"Oh, Wilson, come in," Cuddy blushed furiously, looking up from a document she was examining, among piles of other paperwork. Settling himself in an armchair, Wilson gazed at a worn-out Cuddy with much anticipation for a pinch of acknowledgement after failing to see what she was scribbling about, only catching the words "Taylor" and "plaintiff counsel". Finally, she threw the black pen on the table and leaned back, staring at him with a deadly glare.

"What is it?" she murmured, and rubbed her temples.

"Are you sure this is a good time…I mean, I could come back later-"

"If this is about House, I seriously don't know what's been going on-"

"No, Cuddy," Wilson admitted and if he squinted closely, he was sure he saw a sense relief overcoming Cuddy. "It's about everything that's been going on-"

"Wilson, tell me about your patient," Cuddy broke in. Feeling quite surprised at the sudden question, he proceeded, and realised that Cuddy didn't need any questioning. Immediately making a mental note to ask Brenda for more information after his shift ends, he started.

"We ran tests on her and found mutations in the GNAS1 gene. She's also diagnosed with hyperthyroidism a.k.a. autonomous endocrine hyperfuction, adrenal abnormalities which would lead to polyostotic fibrous dysplasia, also known as…"

"My favourite, McCune-Albright syndrome," Cuddy finished off for him, recalling a similar case she had a few years ago.

"Yes," Wilson nodded sporadically, "We're giving her testolactone to reduce estrogen production intermittently and monitoring for any bone deformities."

After the little chat they had on his patient, Wilson could see Cuddy slowly unwind. It looked as if she was enjoying the influx of medical definitions coming at her, possibly to help her forget all the other problems she had had on her mind. Silence pervaded the air for a while, but Wilson shattered it with the question he'd been meaning to ask.

"So…what's going on between you and House?"

"Nothing," immediately came as the answer, but Wilson, as determined as ever, refrained from changing the subject.

"He's been a lot moody lately, and neglecting his patients…but we can't say the same about that police department operating everywhere in the hospital…not that they have any patients…it's just them building up cases…you know, I really hope what they're doing here is fruitful, because we can't run tests with fingerprint dust all over their fingers…" Suddenly, his pager beeped and he jumped. Realising that he had been rambling, he looked up at Cuddy and found her staring at the doorway beyond him. He shifted her gaze to the spot she was so fixated at and furrowed his eyebrows. What was she _staring _at?

"Cuddy, I'll just –"

"Oh yes, of course, yes, thanks Wilson," Cuddy blinked and shuffled the abundant documents on her desk, pretending to be busy once more. As she looked up, she could make out Wilson's white coat flying out of the door.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

* * *

Mac Taylor gazed at the sleeping lady opposite him, his face poker and hard, his hands clasped in front of him, his mind blank and his stature, silent. The recurring beeping of the heart monitor had become so familiar to him that he could feel it his heart beating alongside it, even when he slept, which was not a lot, ever since Peyton got admitted. He looked at her, and studied her face, her sharp features, her light brown hair, and her thick eyelashes, the serene look he gave him as her breaths, in, out, in, out, help put his mind at ease. As he contemplated the smoothness of her skin, he couldn't shake off the thought of her hair getting curlier, her nose sharper, her eyes rounder…and wondered how he would have reacted if what had happened to Peyton had happened to Stella.

Suddenly, he heard the door to the ward open, then close.

"Detective Taylor, I'm Dr. Cameron. I'll be the doctor in charge of Ms. Driscoll…" the voice trailed off as he nodded, not looking up from Peyton.

"What's wrong with her?" he muttered, and Cameron had to concentrate clearly to hear what he had to say. _Been there, done that, _Cameron thought, and recounted the time where she had known exactly how Mac felt.

"We cannot tell what exactly she is suffering from, as all the tests that we had run on her came back negative. The seizure she had could have been a fatal one, but we cannot find anything that is wrong with her heart or any other organs in her body. However, we will have to wait for Ms. Driscoll to regain her consciousness so we can talk to her," As Cameron finished, Mac looked up, his eyes red from the lack of sleep.

"If there's _anything_ I can do…"

"We will let you know, Mr. Taylor, but we suggest you get some rest and continue on your investigation," she looked at him and smiled. He remained grim.

Cameron stole one more gaze at him, and walked out of the room, sighing, doubting if Chase would stay up day and night and care for her if she had been in such a position. As she walked down the hallway, looking for Foreman, a voice spoke up from behind her.

"Fifty dollars says patient would die under Cameron's watch!"

An audible silence followed afterwards as almost everyone looked up from what they were doing - but Cameron had lots of work to do, and retorted, "Thanks, House, for the case!" before catching sight of Foreman's large round eyes, doing what they do best: rolling.

"Certainly, a _pleasure_," Stella whispered as she blew the coffee, familiar in her hands. As she sipped it, the affectionate warmth coursed through her veins, causing her eyes to close and enjoy it, albeit for simply half a second.

"Don't worry, I've started looking for a hotel," House intended express his intentions well and clear, as he gave Stella his signature puppy-dog look.

"This _was not _a date," Stella told him. "If you wanted one, you'd have given me something more than just a cripple with an expensive cane," she added, with a raise of an eyebrow.

"You know you want me, disability and _all,_" House replied with a wink as he limped his way to the cafeteria, looking for Wilson to tell him about "his date". Stella shook her head and laughed at how adorable insensitivity can be.

"HOUSE. Where _have _you been?" Cuddy questioned firmly and gripped his collar hard, trying to instill some sense of fright in him, yet, knowing House, failing miserably.

"Celebrated Thanksgiving with my Mom. She says 'hi' to the Wicked Witch of Princeton Plainsboro, by the way," he made sure to articulate the two zingers perfectly. She rolled her eyes, but wasn't going to give up just yet.

"Your patients have been going in and out of comas, Foreman, Chase and Cameron have been running around looking after them, and all you do is simply _go out?" _There were no words to express how livid Cuddy was at that point of time.

"I was with a policewoman. I have an alibi," he concluded and gripping his cane, limped off, leaving Cuddy dumbstruck.

* * *

"Mac, what are you still doing here?"

Mac looked up at Stella's question and he sighed.

"Didn't Dr. Cameron tell you yesterday to get some rest? You're going to fall ill," Stella walked in, a sympathetic look smeared on her face, as she placed an arm over Mac's shoulders and squeezed him tightly. "It's going to be okay. She's going to be okay," she assured him encouragingly, and he afforded a smile.

"Did you check with Flack the progress of our investigation?" he asked. Stella felt as if a ton of bricks fell on her.

"Um…not yet," she relented.

"So what were you doing then?" Mac tried to convey the question jokingly when he was seriously concerned.

"I was…with House," she hesitated the last bit and glanced at Mac to see how he felt about that, knowing Mac Taylor's emotions regarding House. She regretted it immediately when she saw Mac's face turning from a little contented to very well crestfallen. "Mac…" she continued but stopped when she heard Peyton stir. Mac turned his focus from Stella to Peyton, and was immediately overwhelmed when Peyton's eyes fluttered open.

"Peyton!" he whispered and pulled her into a hug. Stella could see that Peyton was quite taken aback by the sudden gesture as she clearly was flummoxed as to where she was. Stella couldn't help but feel a tinge of jealousy when the fragile lady returned the hug and the two sat there, embracing each other. Eventually, her pager rang, and she thanked God for the diversion. The thankfulness didn't last long for as she read the message paged to her, her face turned as white as sheet. She felt faint. Mac took a glance at her, and immediately felt worried.

"Stella…Stella…what's wrong? Stella?" he repeated and went over to check the supposed memo given to her, leaving Peyton's arms outstretched.

"D…D…Danny…stabbed…right here…dead."


End file.
